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Friday, 30 January 2015

1866: Horror at Sea - the loss of the London

“Globalisation” is
a term often applied to our own time but the process was in full swing a
century and a half ago. The 19th Century saw a vast increase in seaborne
trade and passenger-transportation, as new export markets were opened and as
economies expanded at an unprecedented rate, not only in Europe and North
America, but in newly-emerging nations such as Australia and New Zealand. Whether by sail, steam or a combination of
the two, merchant shipping was a key factor in triggering and sustaining growth
as hitherto inaccessible resources and markets were opened for the first time, and
mass-migration to new opportunities overseas was facilitated.

Ever more-efficient and powerful steam engines and the introduction
of iron, and later steel, construction were major drivers. Though the end was
in sight for the commercial sailing vessel, there was to be a long twilight –
lasting up to and beyond World War 1 – during which such vessels reached a
hitherto undreamed level of efficiency and capacity.

The wreck of the Corsaire by Gustave Dore, 1860Such disasters were not uncommon in this era

The more one reads about this period, the more that one is
struck by the very large numbers of shipping disasters, and the consequent loss
of life. Sea travel was hazardous, very hazardous. Marine technology may have
advanced very significantly in some areas but the absence of radio – which
would not emerge in a practical form until the early 20th Century –
meant that once a ship had sailed over the horizon its ability to signal for
help in an emergency was restricted to visual range only. Once alone on vast
expanses of ocean the chances of securing aid from another vessel were close to
zero. A further weakness lay in the absence of loading and operational
standards – the “Plimsoll Line” marking on a ship’s side, specifying the
maximum draughts to which ships could be laden, was not to become compulsory
for British-registered ships until 1876. Foreign ships visiting British ports were
not required to comply until 1906. Similar problems related to provision of
life boats, and it was only after the Titanic
catastrophe in 1912 that this concern was finally addressed comprehensively.

Samuel Plimsoll

Samuel Plimsoll (1824-1898) is one of the forgotten heroes
of the 19th Century and for many years he campaigned inside and
outside Parliament for compulsory standards of marine safety. One of the cases
which drew attention to this need was provided by the loss of the London in 1866,
a disaster which received wide publicity in its time, and which also casts an interesting spotlight on Victorian values and behaviour in extremis.

Launched in 1845, the 1652-ton, 280-ft long London was then a state of the art
vessel. Built specifically for the Britain-Australia route, she was equipped to
carry 317 passengers. Though her 200-hp steam engine could propel her at 9
knots, she was also ship-rigged for sail, which made for fuel-efficiency and reliability
on long ocean stretches. Her engine was a “compound” – with steam being expanded
in two stages – and as such represented cutting-edge technology. After commissioning she made two
successful voyages to and from Australia and by the time of her next sailing from
London, at the end of December 1865, there had been competition to secure
berths on this highly-regarded vessel. As she left she was carrying 239 passengers
and crew as well as 345 tons of railway iron. It was later alleged that a
seaman who sighted her as she passed down the Thames said at the time “It'll be
her last voyage…she is too low down in the water, she'll never rise to a stiff
sea."

SS London - highly regarded in the mid-1860s

Tragedy struck even before the London left British waters. Putting in to Plymouth to pick up
further passengers the local pilot and his assistant were drowned when their
boat was swamped during transfer. Having taken on further coal supplies – some
50 tons of which were stored on deck – the London
departed late on January 5th 1866. In the next two days she
encountered heavy seas and squalls and rolled badly – the presence of the deck
cargo may not have helped. The rolling was so severe that on January 7th,
a Sunday, divine service was cancelled – in itself an indication, considering
priorities in this age of high religiosity, of the violence of the storm. For
the next two days, and now in the Bay of Biscay, the London ploughed on into a south-westerly gale under steam only. Her
speed was estimated as two knots. January
9th found the ship taking seas over her bows and at daybreak a
life-boat was washed away. Two hours later the bows drove under so heavily that
the sea, and the convulsions that followed, took down the jib-boom, the fore-topmast
and foretop-gallant, fore-royal and main royal masts, and with them their
spars, sails and rigging. The masts fell inboard, held there by the tangled
rigging, but the jib-boom remained under the bows, held there by wire stays.
All efforts to clear this failed and the London
wallowed all day, and the following night, as the storm continued unabated.

Gustavus Brooke, actorOne of the passengers

Encumbered as the London
was, her master, a Captain Martin, decided the next day, January 10th,
to head back to Plymouth. Under full steam, and with fore and mizzen stay-sails
set, and running before the storm, the London
was now managing five or six knots. The wrecked masts were secured and the
jib-boom was finally cleared away. Towards evening however, and now only 200
miles from Land’s End, another violent squall hit, stripping away the
stay-sails and another boat. By 2100 hrs the wind was estimated to be at hurricane
strength. The engine was stopped and the ship placed under main-topsail only.
This was soon blown to shreds and the engine had to be restarted.

Up to this time relatively little water had been shipped but
at 2230 hrs a sea arched over the weather, or port, gangway and fell almost
vertically on the engine-room hatch. It smashed through, flooding the
compartment, extinguishing the fires and stopping the engine. The London was now wallowing helplessly and
rolling so badly that the gunwales were going under. The captain realised that
getting the engine going again was the only hope now but all efforts to close
off the engine-room hatch with sails, mattresses and spars failed. The water level
in the compartment was still rising and the captain finally told his men “Boys, you may say your prayers!”

Mr.Draper's last prayers in the saloon - a very unrealistic contemporary depiction

The terror of the passengers during these days of ordeal
must have been appalling but the worst was yet to come. At 0400hrs the
following morning – the 11th – when it was still dark, four stern
ports of the upper cabin were stove in. Water rushed in, causing further flooding,
and the ship began to settle. There was now no hope. At 1000 hrs. orders were
given to ready the boats for lowering but one was immediately upset and lost.

In the saloon Captain Martin found a Wesleyan minister, a
Mr. Draper praying with women and children gathered around him. The captain
told them “Ladies, there is no hope for
us, I am afraid. Nothing short of a miracle can save us!” Mr. Draper added “The captain tells us there is no hope –
that we all must perish – but I tell you there is hope for all!” Hs wife
was apparently not convinced because when a seaman tried to get her into a boat
she handed him a rug. He asked what she would do without it and she replied “It will only be for a few moments longer”

Gustavus Brooke on stageHis last role was his most heroic

One passenger who was to give a heroic example was a famous
actor of his time, Gustavus Brooke (1818 – 1866) who had been successful in
Britain, Ireland and the United States. Of great strength, he laboured
unceasingly at the pumps. According to one source Brooke, “dressed only in a red Crimean shirt and trousers, bareheaded and bare
footed, worked until work was useless. When last seen, about four hours before the
ship went down, he was leaning calmly on one of the half-doors of the
companion(way), his chin resting upon both hands … while he watched the scene
with grave composure.” Men have had
worse epitaphs.

By early afternoon the London
was sinking rapidly. Life boats were swamped and lost no sooner than they were
launched. Captain Martin ordered the ship’s engineer, Greenhill, into one of
the last boats with the words “Your duty
is done. Mine is to remain here.” When the boat was lowered the captain was
again asked to enter it but he replied “No!
I will go down with the passengers but I wish you God-speed and safe to land”.
He threw in a compass to the boat and shouted “North North-East to Brest” as their course.

Greenhill's boat pulling away

Greenhill’s boat was scarcely eighty yards from the London when she took her final plunge. The
stern went under, the bows rose briefly, the crowd on deck was overwhelmed and the
remaining boat, full of people, was dragged down in the vortex. Greenhill now
had the task of bringing himself and eighteen others to shore, three of them second-class
passengers. No first-class or steerage passengers had been saved. After a
storm-tossed day in the open boat, and not-sighted by a vessel that passed
close, they were finally picked up by an Italian vessel, the Marianopole, and taken to Falmouth.

The death-toll was 220.The customary Board of Trade enquiry
followed. It identified that a major contributory factor to the London’s loss was that she was overloaded with the 345 tons of railway
iron and that the coal stored on deck had blocked the scupper holes, which
preventing water taken on to be drained off quickly.

The protracted horror of the London disaster made no less an impact on public opinion than the high
death-toll. Funds were set up to help the bereaved, and, as was inevitable
after all such events of the era, the Scottish poet William McGonagall wrote
epic verse about it. Samuel Plimsoll had one more instance to quote in his
crusade to achieve better safety at sea.

But it was to take another ten years before his efforts bore
fruit. All who put to sea today are in his debt.

Britannia's Shark

Since publication in December the third Dawlish Chronicles novel, Britannia's Shark, has been getting consistently high reviews - scoring an average of 4.8 out of 5 Stars on Amazon.

Readers of this blog will, I hope, excuse my vanity when I quote from one of these reviews:

Not since the days of C.S. Forester, or Alexander Kent, have I read such wonderful naval fiction set in the years before the First World War... Mr. Vanner is a master story teller, one who has thoroughly researched his subjects. His character development is superb, as are his plot lines. Reading his work transports you back in time, to lands and peoples no longer seen. Whether it be the Empire of Queen Victoria, or the many little wars that the Empire had to deal with, you will be entertained for hours on end...

All three of The Dawlish Chronicles are outstanding. Each work demands succeeding volumes to be read, devoured, and savored. Antoine Vanner is at the top of any great writer's game. He could have many mottos, but for his readers, it would be - "Always leave them panting for more..."

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About Me

My "Dawlish Chronicles" are set in the late 19th Century and reflect my deep interest in the politics, attitudes and technology of the period. The fifth novel in the series, “Britannia’s Amazon” is now available in both paperback and Kindle formats. It follows the four earlier Dawlish Chronicles, "Britannia's Wolf", "Britannia's Reach”, "Britannia's Shark" and "Britannia's Spartan". Click on the book covers below to learn more or to purchase.
I’ve had an adventurous career in the international energy industry and am proud of having worked in every continent except Antarctica. History is a driving passion in my life and I have travelled widely to visit sites of historical significance, many insights gained in this way being reflected in my writing. I welcome contact on Facebook and via this Blog. My website is www.dawlishchronicles.com and its “Conflict” section has a large number of articles on topics from the mid-18th Century to the early 20th Century.